Don't Ed Yourself
by Nicolette C-137
Summary: Based on the sticky note on Double D's bathroom wall, which reads "Don't Touch Yourself." (Edd/Eddy)


**Disclaimer: I do not own Ed, Edd n Eddy or any of the following characters.**

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Double D was helping Eddy clean the latter's messy bedroom—or, more accurately, cleaning it for the lazy boy—when he accidentally knocked over a pile of school books that had accumulated on his friend's vanity. Double D bent over to pick them up, gasping at the open _Playboy_ that lied underneath. Blush crept over his face as he continued to clean Eddy's room, avoiding the magazine altogether; allowing his friend to manage that. It wasn't so much the pictures that he wanted to avoid, as whatever germs Eddy (and his brother, who he'd inherited his magazines from) had ejected onto the crusty-looking pages. Actually, Double D thought he ought to stay away from the nightstand, too; it was covered in crumpled tissues. He cringed at the thought of how unsanitary this all was, while feeling simultaneously aroused at the thought of what Eddy had been up to in this messy room of his.

"Check _this_ out," Eddy said suddenly, holding up the _Playboy._

Double D spared the page a quick glance, catching a glimpse of the scantily-clad woman in the picture Eddy was pointing to, and promptly resumed his work. The clothes on the floor were thrown into one pile, whether or not they were dirty, because Double D wasn't about to sniff each article to discern whether or not it stank.

"Which one do you think is hotter?" Eddy asked. Double D looked up to see that his lazy, perverted friend was lounging on the bed, comparing _Playboy_ Bunnies; taking advantage of the obsessive-compulsive boy's offer to help tidy up. "Naughty nurse, or sexy librarian?"

"Um... I don't know, Eddy. Can't we just—?"

"C'mon, Double D... Stop bein' such a prude... What _are_ you into, then?"

"What am I... _into?_ " Double D blushed, pausing his ministrations to raise an eyebrow at Eddy.

"Yeah," Eddy said without looking up from his magazine. "Like, what do you think about when you... _you_ know?"

Double D gaped. "Excuse me?" How could Eddy be so shameless about this? "Are you seriously inquiring...?"

"What are ya, embarrassed? Guys are supposed to be able to talk about this stuff, right?" Eddy sounded a little unsure of himself, as though he was asking Double D if that was really alright; and Double D supposed it was.

" _Fine..._ If you _must_ know... I've never really... _you_ know." Eddy raised his eyebrow with the accusation of disbelief, and Double D sighed at the prospect of having to explain himself. "A few months ago, I tried... experimenting with myself—so to speak—for the first time... My mother walked in on me..." Double D could see out the corner of his eye that Eddy's jaw had dropped. "The following morning, there was a note on the bathroom wall, instructing me to not touch myself."

"Double D..." Eddy seemed at a loss for words. He could only point out the obvious. "That's fucked up!"

"I know." The science-oriented boy was familiar enough with the subject of sexual reproduction to understand that masturbation was only natural. Why did his parents have to treat the concept as taboo?

"How do you control yourself?"

"It's not that I hold myself back... If anything, I _try_ to do it," he admitted. "I just... _can't..._ " Every time he attempted to rebel against his mother's impractical demands, he developed a guilty conscience; and thinking of his parents ruined his sexual appetite, anyway.

Eddy's sympathetic expression suddenly transformed into one that suggested a figurative light bulb had just turned on above his head. "So, she wrote not to touch _yourself,_ right...? They didn't say anything about letting anyone _else_ touch you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if someone did it _for_ you," Eddy said nervously, placing a hand on his friend's thigh, "would that be okay?" Double D gaped, eyes widening at the sight of the hand that was slowly inching toward his privates; too petrified to be able to stop it from happening if he'd wanted to. This is exactly what Double D had been fantasizing about when his mother had so carelessly wandered into his room with a basket of laundry. "I mean, _someone_ oughta take care of this." Eddy groped lightly at the slight bulge that had already formed in Double D's pants, eliciting a soft gasp of surprise and pleasure. Without further ado, Eddy unzipped Double D's purple Khaki shorts and slipped a hand beneath the waistband; gripping Double D's swelling member. Eddy marveled at the way Double D reacted to his touch; the sounds that escaped that pretty, little mouth; how quickly the sexually pent-up boy came in Eddy's hand.

Feeling relieved—for the first time since puberty—Double D collapsed onto Eddy's bed, breathing heavily. "Wow, you really needed that." Eddy snickered, grabbing a leaf of Kleenex from the box on his nightstand, and cleaning up the mess.

"Hey, Eddy..." Double D said timidly. "Next time I find myself in this predicament, will you... Um..."

"Don't worry, Sockhead." Eddy winked. "I'll take care of you." Double D smiled up at him appreciatively. "You know, that note also didn't say anything about you not being able to touch anyone _else..._ "


End file.
